


In Everschade

by Padjal_Protector



Series: Tales from the Twelveswood [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25516279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Padjal_Protector/pseuds/Padjal_Protector
Summary: Vantelmont doesn't go out looking for trouble, it just seems to find him.
Series: Tales from the Twelveswood [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1504505
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	In Everschade

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is kind of standard, a lot is pulled directly from MSQ because I need framework for later chapters ahhh. Sorry if it's a bit slow!!
> 
> I don't proofread as much as I should, but this is for my own fun.

It wasn’t often Van found himself ‘arguing’ with others, per say, but sometimes even a mild disagreement was bound to happen. Generally speaking aforementioned disagreements didn’t usually happen with a rotund little marshmallow with a bright red pom on it’s head that resembled more a children’s stuffed toy than a living, breathing creature, though. This happened to be his reality as the elezen was taking a bit of a rest at Bentbranch Meadows.

“I don’t think that’s quite true.” He mentioned, a shake of his head and a suspicious look at the moogle floating alongside him. 

“It is true!” Kupni Kupp replied, almost offended. “Chocobos can have dreams the same as any other.”

Van was smiling, watching his companion's rather animated gesture of small paws as if it would convince Van of his sincerity. 

“Oh yeah?” He moved to fold his arms across his chest, looking to the moogle. “And I suppose you know because you’ve asked them?”

A pause, before he added.

“ _And_ gotten a response?”

Before Kupni Kupp could answer him properly, a bit of a commotion near the stables caught his ear. 

While it could likely be nothing but a simple matter pertaining to the chocobos or their care, Van’s attention lingered in that direction. Kupni Kupp in turn was distracted, their debate on the concept of chocobos and their dreams forgotten as the creature began to float toward the stables. 

Curious.

Which wasn’t to say Van himself wasn’t. He shifted from the fence post he’d been leaning against, and brushed off his uniform coat. He’d only stopped for a spell near Bentbranch, his own patrol which was coordinated with the Wood Wailers took him this way. The conversation with Kupni Kupp had been a welcome way to pass some time, particularly when the events of the last few weeks had weighed heavily on him.

It certainly was something to be told you were likely destined for something important, when you didn’t feel that way, after all. 

As he started walking toward the stables, following Kupni Kupp along though he was likely the only one able to see the moogle, the small group gathered around Luquelot still seemed abuzz. If there was an issue, perhaps he could be of some minor assistance. He was an enlisted officer, after all. 

Upon his approach, Luquelot recognized Van, handing off a large chocobo egg to one of the other stable workers. Bridging the distance between them after slipping past one of the others still seemingly up in arms about the egg, he gestured for Van to follow him.  
  
Curious, Van moved to take those few steps away with Luquelot and now out of earshot of the others, the man spoke.

“If it isn’t one bloody thing it’s another.” He began, exasperation on his features. A glance again towards the others further in the stables before turning his attention completely towards Van, lowering his voice.  
  
“No sooner than an adventurer manages to retrieve my Leia’s egg back from some thieves, then….” He hesitated a moment, but pressed on. 

“I caught sight of something troubling.”  
  
Van inclined his head, listening. “Troubling how?” As if the theft hadn’t been troubling the man enough, Van thought.

Luquelot made a face. “Well, as of late Ixali dirigibles have been just crossing the borders of the Twelveswood. Without a care in the world, it feels like.” He stated, brow furrowed. “I took the liberty of putting whatever details I could gather from the sightings in writing.”  
  
The man extended a neatly rolled piece of parchment to Van. Taking it, Van nodded with an almost uncharacteristically somber expression. After the direct run-in with the Ixal he’d had a few weeks prior, Van felt the phantom ache in his arm from where he’d nearly lost a limb in the skirmish.  
  
“I don’t want to cause panic, so I won’t ask of you to take this to the Adders. At least not yet, I’d like to get word to Miounne none the less.” Luquelot sighed. “It could be nothing, but it could be something amiss with the Elementals. I know it’s not the norm for enlisted men to simply be couriers but-”  
  
Van shook his head, pocketing the scroll. “Not a problem. It wasn’t that long ago I was running other more mild errands for the stables, right?”  
  
A laugh escaped him, and Luquelot in turn chuckled. It truly hadn’t been that much time since he’d picked up odd jobs at Bentbranch, even if it might’ve felt that way as he stood there in his Twin Adder uniform. 

“Right, right.” A little nod from Luquelot. “With any luck it’s nothing.”  
  
“With any luck.” Van echoed, before nodding to the other. “I’ll make sure she gets it.”  
  
A quick goodbye to Luquelot to let the man attend his business and a similarly quick farewell to Kupni Kupp, Van made his way back toward the city proper. A blessedly uneventful journey, for once.

Entering the Carline Canopy, the atmosphere was as it always was. Lively, warm, and definitely welcoming, much like the Proprietress herself.

No matter how much Van seemed to progress, speaking to Mother Miounne always made him feel like he was fresh from Coerthas and wide-eyed at the splendors and greenery of Gridania. Miounne certainly hadn’t forgotten, even if she spoke of being proud of him, her tone often still took on that way it had when he’d first arrived. Not to mention, it was unlikely she would ever forget his less than graceful loss of consciousness during a ceremony at the Amphitheatre after which he’d been brought back to the Inn and been looked over by the woman.

Luckily she didn’t bring that up, at least not much.  
  
“Ah, Vantelmont.” Miounne smiled as he approached. “It certainly has been a spell, does the enlistment keep you too busy to visit your dear mother?”  
  
Teasing as she was, Van couldn’t help the almost sheepish gesture of his hand coming to the back of his neck, as if he were truly guilty of not visiting her enough. 

“It’s many more responsibilities than I used to have, certainly. I will do my best to come around more often, though.” Van said. As much as he would’ve liked to keep up the jovial conversational tones, his expression did shift to a bit more serious as he retrieved the scroll from his person, handing it to Miounne. “Just a bit of correspondence, dropping this off on Luquelot’s behalf.”  
  
Miounne took the scroll, curious as she unfurled the parchment and began to quietly read the letter. Van kept his attention on her, for a reaction, vaguely hoping she didn’t consider it anything too serious. Unfortunately, her face blanched to a deathly pale the more she read.

“Oh, dear.” She began to fold the letter, looking around, then attention coming to rest on Vantelmont once more. As she spoke now, her voice was lowered though it was unlikely they’d be overheard above the din and noise of the establishment.  
  
“Troubling.” Miounne stated, moving about a moment then to retrieve pen and parchment of her own. Continuing to speak to Van, she swiftly wrote. “Based on Luquelot’s observations, the Ixal have designs on the Guardian Tree and they mean to act soon. The tree is the oldest living thing in this ancient forest, and it is held sacred by every forestborn Gridanian.”

A moment’s pause, looking up from her writing to watch Van. “Should it come to any harm, the elementals would fly into a rage beyond pacifying. I dread to think of the chaos that would ensue.” Setting down quill, she folded the parchment and handed it to Van. 

“There isn’t much time. We must act quickly.” 

Van took the letter and his own expression was worried. 

“Vantelmont, please see this letter to the hands of Bowlord Lewin.” She exhaled a breath. “Should the need arise, pray put yourself wholly at the man’s disposal. I strongly suspect he will need all the able-bodied souls he can muster.”  
  
It wasn’t a common or a nice thing to see such worry on Miounne’s face, but this only made Van’s own worry ebb back to more a feeling of being resolute. He had been training, he was an enlisted officer now, for goodness sake. No longer a fresh-faced foreigner to Gridania, the place had become more his home with each passing day. He would certainly do his all to protect that. 

In fact, moreso now. Now that something in him had been deemed special, something radiant. His mind couldn’t help circling back to that, again and again. The conversation with the Elder Seedseer continued to work it’s way through his head, making him feel even more responsible for Gridania. 

Pocketing the letter, Van nodded. “Of course.” He managed a slight smile, as if to put Miounne at ease, if possible. “I’ll be sure to visit again sooner. Promise.”  
  
The comment seemed to do the trick, at least for now, the abrupt little laugh that came from Miounne before, hands on hips, she shook her head. “Just be swift, Vantelmont. Shoo.”  
  
Van did as told, moving to make another bit of a courier delivery, albeit with more haste.  
  
It didn’t take long to get to the Archer’s guild, and a quick word got him admitted to the Seat of the Firstbow. He’d never actually spoken to Bowlord Lewin before, and this surely wasn’t a time to casually converse either, so upon delivering the letter from Miounne to the man, things moved quickly. Miounne had been right, after all, and no sooner had Lewin read over the correspondence, then he requested Van’s participation. Everything was a flurry of activity, amid the Wood Wailers and archers from the Gods’ Quiver, arrival to Everschade was as covert as they could manage. From their vantage point, it was clear the Ixal forces had amassed at the Guardian Tree. 

An Ixal was speaking, their voice echoing. 

“O mournful voice of creation! O mournful voice of time!”

The Ixali Chieftan raised their weapons, turning to the rest gathered.

“Attend me, all!” His voice boomed. “To us, this forest, Tinolqa, belongs!”

The gathered Ixal raised weapons in turn, a chorus.  
  
“Wisdom of Paragons we possess! To our former glory, restore us it will!” The Chieftan continued, conviction in every word. “From this tree, a great crystal we take! Unto Garuda, an offering we shall make!”

“Unfeatherd ones and elementals, banish we shall! Our ancient home, reclaim we will!”

This wasn’t good. Without thinking, Van felt his fingers twist and tug at something tied around his wrist beneath his glove. His first fight against Ixal hadn’t been his best moment, not when the injury he’d sustained had rattled him so, but this was no time to linger on such thoughts. He couldn’t let such things keep him from properly defending Gridania.

The Bowlord’s words snapped him from his thoughts.

“First squad, left flank. Second and third, right flank.” Lewin’s orders were quick, the others moving to get into position. “The rest, form the main host with me. It is high time we reminded our Ixal guests why we Quivermen are to be feared!”

Van shifted his lance from his back and held it at ready. He’d become better with it, he’d become more accustomed to the terrain of the Twelveswood. He just had to remind himself of those things, and why he’d been promoted within the ranks of the Twin Adder. 

The main host surged forward, the Ixali Chieftain taken aback by the intrusion. 

“Interrupt us, you dare!? In your own blood, you shall bathe!” With that biting proclamation, they urged their forces forward. 

The clash that ensued as a flurry of arrows and lances, Ixali blades and spellcraft. To his credit, Van managed to keep a level head this time in a much more effective way. His lance work had decidedly improved since the last skirmish he’d been involved in, and once the forces dispatched the last of the Ixal, leaving others to flee. The bustle of activity directly after left Van with little chance to really over-think his performance much.  
  
As the main host began to fan out once more, one of the Gods’ Quiver Bowmen came to Van. “Impressive work. The Bowlord bids you hold this position. Enemies may yet lurk near, so stay on your guard.” The bowman shouldered his weapon. “We go to bolster the left flank, where the battle yet rages.”  
  
With that short exchange of words, the man moved along with other bowmen, leaving Van somewhat on his own for at least a moment. While he felt perhaps he should’ve been along with the others, he did as told, remaining. 

He shifted his lance from one hand to the other, taking a few slow steps toward the Guardian Tree. To his untrained eyes, it seemed all was still well with it. They had come in time, perhaps. Van felt a prickling at the back of his neck, then. He thought he heard something, but no sooner had he glanced off, than when his attention was back towards the Guardian Tree, a masked figure in dark robes stood before it.

The masked figure spoke. “The source of his strength becomes clear.” 

The voice was like a hiss, unimpressed. Before Van could say a word, a symbol flashed before the masked mage’s face, an angry red glow.  
  
“O mournful voice of creation! Send unto me a creature of the abyss, my thrall to command, that I may smite mine enemies!” 

From the incantation, a swirling pool at the base of the tree of deepest darkness manifested. From it, arose a creature unlike anything Van had ever set eyes on before, not even in his nightmares. 

“Your very being imperils the plan. You cannot be suffered to live.” The masked mage uttered, venom in their tone.

Van drew his lance again, and while part of him wished he hadn’t been left on his own, he had little time to really think about that. The creature, something akin to a voidsent monster of deepest dark, proved a difficult foe. Van had just come off of a battle with the Ixal, and he decidedly was a little worse for his reflexes now against something he had little clue how to truly fight. He still did as best he could.

“The Crystal has chosen you for a purpose.”  
  
Those words filtered into his mind, enveloped his thoughts despite the danger. He could hear her voice, the calm, resolute voice that had insisted upon him that he was meant for great things. 

It seemed to light a fire under him. The crystal he’d found, the radiance that had come with it, he would prove it right. He would prove the soft conviction of the Elder Seedseer right. 

As if given a second wind, his movements were quicker, his lance driving forth with more force behind it. He managed to avoid the swipes of the creature’s hideous claws, managed to keep a step ahead as he continued his assault. When the beastly thing was finally slain, it seemed to dissolve into pure shadows. 

The masked mage remained.

Without a second thought, Van took off at a run towards them. Spellcaster or no, he wouldn’t be bested, not now. Not when keeping this faceless fiend back was a matter of protecting the forest and the city he considered a home. 

If asked, Van couldn’t recall how long the fight had taken, nor how he mustered the same fervor after having felled the prior monstrosity. In the end, his lance was triumphant against the masked spellcaster, leaving Van breathless, but hale and whole. 

“That the wisdom of the Paragons should be brought low...by a mere mortal…” The Mask Maged spat his words, before crumpling to the ground at the base of the Guardian Tree. 

  
The ringing in Van’s ears barely began to subside when the splashing footfalls caught his attention. He turned in time to see Lewin’s approach with the quivermen.  
  
“Vantelmont, are you unharmed!? Had I know this creature was near, I would have sent men, not called them away!”  
  
Van slowly regained his bearings, shouldering his lance and shaking his head. “I’m fine, unharmed.” He flashed a smile, weak as it was.  
  
Inevitably, the attention of all came to the downed figure of the masked mage.  
  
One of the quivermen stepped closer. “There’s no mistake, sir-he is the one who stirred the Ixal from their nest. Our intelligence was reliable.”

Lewin frowned. “So this is the man who has eluded us for so long?” He seemed to be musing to himself, before snapping from his thoughts. 

“That besides….Quivermen! Move out!” 

Uncertain what that was about, Van watched the Quivermen begin to take their leave, before turning to Lewin again.  
  
“To say you played an instrumental role in the success of this mission would scarcely do justice to your efforts this day. Upon your return to Gridania, pray visit me at Quiver’s Hold.” Lewin nodded. “I will see to it that you receive the thanks you are due.”  
  
Van blinked, and for a moment nearly began to stammer his protests. Luckily, the Bowlord turned to leave in turn so he didn’t much get a chance to argue it. 

At the Seat of the First Bow, Van had been trying to subtly as possible to avoid too much ‘praise’ being heaped upon him as Lewin recounted the success of the mission. No sooner did Van feel he was losing in that regard, that another entered the room. 

Upon turning, all present watched the Elder Seedseer enter, followed by her Serpent Guard. Immediately, everyone present saluted, or knelt as the woman approached. Van himself instinctively saluted, of course. 

“Ah, Sergeant Naideux.” She spoke with that hint of familiarity, smiling in that way that reached her eyes. “I am come to express my gratitude for your valiant efforts before the Guardian Tree.”  
  
“It was your valor that won us the day, I believe. On behalf of all Gridanians, I offer you my humblest thanks.”  
  
Van was trying his best not to stare at her, not to make it seem a huge deal that she seemed to simply know him by name. Secretly of course, his heart thumped loudly in his chest. He wanted to shrug off this compliment, but he refrained. Perhaps it was because again, this time with more obviousness, he felt tongue tied. Maybe it was because he was in front of so many others.  
  
She continued. “This gift I present to you as a small token of my gratitude.”  
  
The elezen guard at her side moved forward, extending a hand and giving Van a small box. He didn’t open it then and there of course, but inclined his head all the same toward Kan-E.  
  
“I thank you.” He spoke as evenly as he could, his nerves threatening again to get the better of him. “I’m grateful I could be of service to both the Twelveswood and Gridania.” 

Still that same warmth in her smile and in her gaze as she regarded him. Inclining her head, Kan-E spoke once more.  
  
“While I understand the encounter is likely to be recorded in reports you will undoubtedly present to the Twin Adder, I would much appreciate hearing how the events unfolded from you.”  
  
A lift of one hand, pressed delicately against her chest. “As such, pray attend me at the Lotus Stand once you have done so.”  
  
Again, his heart felt as though it would seize up. Mutely, and a bit stupidly, he nodded. “Of course.”  
  
At the very least he managed words, that was a good thing right?  
  
“Until then.” With that, she turned to go, her guards following. 

He tried his best not to stare, he really did, but it wasn’t until she was gone completely that he seemed to remember where he was. Sheepish, he turned to Bowlord Lewin. “Apologies.” He cleared his throat. “If...there is nothing further, I should likely get those reports to the Twin Adder while it is all fresh in my mind, sir.”  
  
Lewin just watched Van a moment, almost amused, before waving a hand. “Your business with me is done, you’ve other matters which need your attention. Once more I give thanks, we certainly wouldn’t have won the day without your participation.”  
  
Van didn’t deal well with so much praise, but he smiled nonetheless, awkward as he was. A respectful salute, before moving to exit. 

Once Van was out of there, he finally felt like he could breathe. Ruffling his hair with one hand, he tried to gather his thoughts. He really should get those reports written up, swiftly, and presented to the Twin Adder. Especially while it was all more or less vivid in his mind. 

He bit his lower lip a moment, thinking as he walked. As much as the voice in the back of his head was telling him to blow off doing the reports until later, to go directly to see the Elder Seedseer now, he knew he couldn’t do that. It wasn’t in him to shun responsibilities for something he wanted to do (and he very, very much wanted to speak to Kan-E again), he also didn’t want to more or less disobey what she’d instructed. She had told him to see her once he’d submitted those reports. 

A wistful sigh escaped him. The best course of action was clear. As an after thought, he stuck a hand in his pocket, retrieving the small box he’d been handed earlier. A token of her gratitude? 

Slowing to a stop, he shrugged to himself, wondering if it may be some kind of emblem to affix to his uniform. Did that happen often? He wasn’t entirely sure. When Van pulled the lid off the small box, a ring revealed itself. Silver, with details etched on the band and a bright yellow gemstone. He blinked at it, for a moment seeming like he’d never seen a piece of jewelry before. Certainly he had, but he’d never quite owned any himself. Curiously he lifted it out of the box and looked closer at the gemstone. Clear and precise, the silver shone around it. 

A smile surfaced on his face as he began walking again. As he did so, he pulled his glove off and immediately slipped the ring on. It was unlikely this was a very personal token, he imagined others had received such for deeds done for the good of Gridania.  
  
Still, he couldn’t help the way his face warmed at the sight of it. A mix of pride and perhaps something else. 

The day had certainly been eventful, but he had his duties. With a swifter pace, he headed back toward the Adder’s Nest. The reports wouldn’t write themselves and he would have to force himself to focus on penning them.  
  
At least another reward would be an excuse to see her again, after.


End file.
